As I felt the seasons changing, I began to feel a creeping dread. 

I found myself prematurely mourning the summer. 

The seemingly perfect memories made with my family: 

My children running through blueberry fields with the sun shining in their hair. 

Their fingers running through the sand at the beach down the road that we call our home-away-from-home. 

Looking for tiny monarch caterpillars in the glow of golden hour. 

Wrapped up in my husband’s arms as we gazed the blanket of stars above us. 

The bright days giving a full house, and an even fuller heart. 

It was the summer of the precious realization of the beauty in a slow life. 

I found myself in tears as I replayed these memories, hoping it would last forever. 

I retreated to my garden. 

Not looking for anything in particular, just for space to feel. 

And as I worked, preparing the soil for new fall growth — 

Pulling tired plants that had given us so much to the soil, to pollinators, to our family;

Thanking them for providing us so much more than just sustenance, but for memories and lessons

— I felt an instant peace. 

The season of the garden so perfectly mirroring our season of life.

The plants being uprooted, pregnant with fruit just weeks ago. 

Their leaves no longer a vibrant green, but withered and tired, their work complete. 

Those plants not mourned, but thanked and celebrated for all they’d given;

Then respectfully laid back to earth to build a strong foundation for new life. 

And as I cared for that same soil to prepare it for new growth, new abundance, 

I found myself with tears running down my cheeks again as new seeds were sown. 

This time, not in sadness or in mourning. 

This time, in gratitude and understanding that all that went into the plants before these freshly rooted seeds,

Were preparing for further abundance far beyond just their season. 

And just like in my garden — 

The seeds sown in our lives this past season, 

The pruning and weeding to create an intentional life, 

The memories that will be preserved forever,

Have allowed for new abundance, new growth, and new fruit for our family in this new season. 

And while seasons don’t last forever, each should be embraced, thanked, celebrated —

Never mourned — for there is beauty, purpose, and opportunity in every one. 

And for that lesson, to my garden I am grateful.